


minutes to midnight

by wintermadethissoldier



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Canon Divergence - Avengers: Endgame (Movie), F/F, First Kiss, Fix-It of Sorts, Fluff, M/M, New Year's Eve, New Year's Fluff, New Year's Kiss, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:55:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22062172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wintermadethissoldier/pseuds/wintermadethissoldier
Summary: “Kiss him at midnight.” Sharon says.Steve colored again, coughing into his fist in a vain attempt to hide it.“Pardon?”“It’s the perfect opportunity.” She takes another swig of drink, raising her eyebrows at him. “The lights are out, it’ll be a total surprise…” She smirks, hopping back on a barstool. “Why not?”
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, Sharon Carter/Natasha Romanov
Comments: 12
Kudos: 254





	minutes to midnight

**Author's Note:**

> this is a commission for the INCREDIBLY talented and beautiful [Middi](https://twitter.com/MiddiMidori). this is a bit of a fix-it, bit of canon divergence where tony and nat didn't die, clint jumped, and carol used the gauntlet.

Steve frowns at the glass in his hand, resisting the urge to screw his face up at the taste of artificial cherry.

“It’s not going to do anything for me.” He says for what feels like the thirtieth time that evening, eyeing Sharon across the counter.

“Better to keep up appearances now than to deal with a bunch of gossip mags spilling the secret that Captain America is too uptight to drink on New Year’s Eve.” She just shrugs in response, taking a long drink from her own glass. “Besides, it’s something to do with your hands.”

He sighs in resignation, staring at the too-bright concoction in his cup. “I think the paparazzi are focused on more important things. She here yet?”

Sharon pinks slightly, looking around Steve at the party going on behind him. “She lives here, doesn’t she? But no, she tends to only be seen when she wants to be seen.” Steve bites back a smart remark as she hands her glass back to the bartender, ordering another whiskey sour. “Is _he_ here?”

He does far worse than Sharon, color rising to his cheeks immediately. “Somewhere. Upstairs, probably. He was still on the fence about coming.” He fiddles with the stem of his glass, focusing on making sure he doesn’t snap it in half rather than the way his heart twists. It had been nearly eight months since everyone had come back, sending the world into a new kind of panic as billions of people tried to fit into a world that had forced itself to move on without them. The PR fire alone was a nightmare, the public demanding to know where Clint had gone, how they had reversed the Snap, how they were planning on making sure something like this never happened again. He hated going out of the newly-rebuilt HQ, hated facing the people who screamed at him in anger and in admiration. He thought it had been bad after the Battle of New York, though it had been worse after the Snap. There were almost four billion more people now to breathe down the Avengers neck, a sickening reminder of the Accords in their call to release what they knew about time travel and to put their actions under review.

Tony hired a whole army of new lawyers and PR reps to deal with most of it, but the rest of the team was feeling it as well. Carol left immediately after she had recovered from wielding the gauntlet, Thor had joined the Guardians and hadn’t been heard from in months, and T’Challa had shut off Wakanda again until they were fully recovered. The remaining ones at HQ were slowly re-learning their way around each other, a strange dance of wanting to catch up with those that had been snapped and knowing they needed to go through their own process of grief and recovery. Even Sam, who he had spent nearly every waking moment around for years before the snap, was more distant from him now, like they were watching each other through frosted windows.

But Bucky retreating from him had hurt the most. He had nearly fallen to his knees after the battle was over, nearly sick with relief that the nightmare was actually over. Five years of nightmares and heartbreak so tangible he could actually taste it like rusted metal on his tongue. Years of regret and guilt and grief, of promises to not step out of the way of a bullet in a fight now, of threatening whatever higher power there to wrest them from their throne and bring him back. And then, Bucky in front of him, blood streaked across his forehead and dropping his gun like it was on fire. Bucky, looking up at him like he was seeing a ghost and hesitating as Steve launched into his arms and held him like he was going to fade away again. His arms came around Steve eventually, but he didn’t miss the way his body tensed as though he wasn’t sure what to do with the touch.

After Clint’s funeral and returning the stones, he finally began to pick up on the distance between them. Both him and Sam had agreed to move into HQ, not wanting to deal with the housing market in the wake of everyone returning and needing some space from the general public constantly clamoring for answers they didn’t have. Steve hadn’t expected that he would pick up with Bucky where they had left off, but he still felt the sting when Bucky largely kept to himself, not avoiding Steve but not seeking him out either. He became hyper-aware of his movements around Bucky, wary of pushing him further away but desperately needing to be close to him. The distant look in his eyes he had before Wakanda was back and Steve was constantly on edge, afraid that he would disappear if he blinked. They needed something—needed each other—but couldn’t find their way past the guilt to find each other. So they danced around each other in subtle ways that only they could see, gone unnoticed by virtually everyone in HQ through the chaos.

Sharon was the first person Steve told, catching up with her over dinner just a few weeks after the battle. It was a confession blurted out over mozzarella sticks and beet salad, his heart strained and miserable from weeks of not knowing where he stood with Bucky. Sharon had barely looked up from her salad, nodded, and asked him to pass the salt. It came out in a rush after that, pouring out his heart to her as she sat and watched him with steady eyes. She offered a trade: he would introduce her further to Natasha, who she had been moon-eyed for since she had joined SHIELD, and Sharon would give him advice on how best to proceed.

Apparently, that advice now led to her jabbing him in the ribs with her nails, leaning in to murmur in his ear.

“Kiss him at midnight.”

Steve colored again, coughing into his fist in a vain attempt to hide it.

“Pardon?”

“It’s the perfect opportunity.” She takes another swig of drink, raising her eyebrows at him. “The lights are out, it’ll be a total surprise…” She smirks, hopping back on a barstool. “Why not?”

“Bucky isn’t...he doesn’t.” Steve waves a hand around, still searching the crowd for him.

“Steve.” She stops him, nudging his knee with her heel until he turns towards her. “It’s obvious how he feels for you. Take a risk for once.”

“I take risks every damn day.” He mumbles, picking his drink back up and stalking towards the dancefloor, resolutely promising himself not to start off the year by completely destroying his relationship with Bucky.

* * *

It’s nearly eleven when Bucky finally makes an appearance, hair in a bun and all tight black clothing that makes Steve wish he could melt into the floor. It must be a good day for him—a good hour, at least—he’s smiling easily with the people that clap his back as he walks by, offering him drinks as he moves through the crowd. His eyes catch Steve’s and his smile grows, a thousand-watt thing that he swear could light up all of New York City. He hopes he doesn’t look as nervous as he feels, his heart racing like he’s sixteen again and Bucky is drunk, nosing into his neck and calling him his best guy.

“Cap!” He startles as Scott claps him on the back, grinning and ruddy-faced as he leans too heavily into him.

By the time he pulls himself away from conversation with Scott, Bucky has disappeared into the crowd, leaving Steve glancing over people’s heads as nonchalantly as he can.

“Looking for someone?” Steve whirls at Bucky’s voice, nearly falling over in the process. He rights himself, rubs the back of his neck sheepishly, and laughs.

“Just looking.” He admits, hoping the low light of the room hides the way his cheeks pink. “Are you enjoying it?”

Bucky cocks an eyebrow. “The last twenty minutes have been great, sure. Are you okay? Had a little too much? You aren’t still a total lightweight, are you?” He gestures to the empty glass in Steve’s hand, looking amused.

Steve’s eyebrows furrow, trying to piece together what Bucky could mean. He hadn’t been able to get drunk off of anything but Thor’s mead since the serum, though he realizes with a start that it had never come up around Bucky. And if he’s asking, it means Bucky might be able to get drunk.

Which means…

“The serum helps.” He blurts out, trying to sound casual. “Have you tried whatever concoction Scott brought?”

“Glad I don’t get sick anymore, but damn is it hard having to drink a whole bottle of anything to feel something.” Bucky smiles, holding up a glass of his own. “Hope already made sure I had a glass. He doesn’t mess around, does he?”

Steve huffs a laugh, his body relaxing bit by bit in the way it always did when Bucky was around. “Guess he figures there’s lots to celebrate.”

Bucky raises an eyebrow again, searching Steve’s face for something he can’t find. “Guess there is.”

Steve pauses, emboldened by either the dim lights and heavy music or just the fact that Bucky’s chest is incredibly distracting in that shirt. “Hey, we should ta—”

Sam cuts in before he can get out the rest of his proposal, already stumbling himself. “Barnes, you gotta be my partner for beer pong. Nat’s on the other team and I refuse to fuckin’ lose.”

“Didn’t you tell me you would rather eat gravel than be in my presence?”

“Didn’t you hit JFK from 80 meters?”

Steve braces himself for the inevitable shutter of Bucky’s face, retreating into himself and refusing to speak to anyone for days as he relived his Winter Soldier days. He’s already reaching for Sam to drag him outside and berate him for being so callous before he hears Bucky bark out a laugh, shoving Sam’s shoulder towards the beer pong table.

“Ass.”

“Bastard.”

Steve stares, open-mouthed, as the two of them make their way to the table, arms slung around each other like old friends.

* * *

He barely sees Bucky the rest of the hour, the other Avengers going out of their way to make sure he makes the most of his rare socialization moments. He ends up sitting with Sharon most of the night, hearing her talk about Nat’s impeccable ping-pong aim and her constantly ribbing at his inability to talk to Bucky.

Steve’s almost jealous of the way Bucky’s shoulders start to loosen after half a dozen drinks, the alcohol clearly affecting him more than it had ever affected Steve. He thinks he catches Bucky’s eye a few times throughout the night, might be imagining the way his smile brightens fractionally when he sees Steve. He knows it’s probably in his head, but allows himself this small measure of hope—just for tonight.

Sharon turns to him just before it’s a minute til midnight, suddenly extremely serious.

“You gotta kiss him.”

“Sharon not this ag—”

“I’m serious,” She cuts in, her eyes on Natasha as she stalks across the room. “I’m gonna do it. You gonna let me upstage you?”

Despite his best efforts, his hackles still rise at the challenge. He glances over at Bucky, happily dancing away and looking more carefree than he has in months—it makes his heart twist in pain, in want, in everything under the fucking sun.

“Go.” She pushes him towards Bucky, making her way to the opposite side of the room and leaving him stranded in the middle of the dancing.

He feels like his heart is electrocuted as the countdown starts, his whole body alight with _now or never_ in a way he hasn’t felt since that damn battle.

Ten…

He feels the crowd part around him as he makes his way to Bucky, stray hairs sticking to his forehead as he shouts with the rest of them.

Nine…

He’s got a stupid paper party hat on that says _Hindsight is 2020_ , crooked as it sheds glitter into his hair.

Eight…

He’s loved him since he was thirteen and realized he wanted to kiss Bucky so bad it hurt.

Seven…

He watched him die and come back from the dead twice. He had beaten death. He had always come back.

Six…

He had fought against his team and the rest of the world just to keep him safe. He would tear the whole damn earth in two if it meant he could keep him like this, happy and grinning and care-free.

Five…

He can’t stop staring at that damn _chest_ in that shirt, the disco ball light glinting off of his arm as he waves it in the air.

Four…

And that damn ass in those pants. He was pretty sure that alone could level a whole city.

Three..

He stops thinking, pushing past the rest of the crowd to come up behind Bucky.

Two...

He grabs Bucky around the waist as the lights go out, spinning him around and praying to whoever would listen that he doesn’t miss his lips as he leans in. He feels Bucky tense against him, can almost feel the alcohol fighting his fight or flight instincts as he forces himself to stay still.

One…

He hears the countdown finish, everyone around them screaming _Happy New Year!_ as his lips press against Bucky’s. It’s messy, Bucky close-mouthed and tensed as his mind frantically tries to process what’s happening, Steve’s hand still splayed across his hip. Steve still feels the electricity that sparks through his entire body, heat flooding his cheeks as he’s hit with the full force of what he’s doing. But then Bucky relaxes into him finally, his metal hand coming up to cup his cheek as his mouth opens against him. Steve thinks he’s going to fucking explode, his entire body alight with something like fire.

The lights turn back on and people continue to cheer, a few people around them stilling as they realize what the hell is happening right next to them.

Captain America is kissing his best friend in a room full of drunk people.

Steve’s panic is cut short as Bucky opens his eyes, confusion evident across his face. Then suddenly it’s just Bucky, the rest of the party melting away to focus in on the moment that could fucking break him in half.

“Are you drunk?” Bucky has to almost yell over the noise, his eyebrows knitting together.

Steve starts, dropping his hands from Bucky’s waist. “I can’t _get_ drunk!” He shouts back, wishing the rest of the party would calm down for two seconds.

“Aren’t you with Sharon?” Bucky looks even more confused and Steve can see panic building behind his eyes. But he isn’t disgusted. He isn’t mad. Something like hope flares in Steve’s chest as he shakes his head, forgoing verbal explanation by searching the room madly for her. He points to her and Nat, wrapped around each other while Tony stares, open-mouthed, at the two of them.

Bucky looks at her, looks back at Steve, blinks.

“Steve?”

“Bu—”

He doesn’t get the rest of his name out before Bucky is pressing his lips against Steve’s, hard and insistent like it’s been decades in the making. He would guess it has been if his brain wasn’t currently melting in its skull, his entire nervous system short-wiring as he tries to make sense of the reality of Bucky kissing him.

He feels Bucky grin against his lips, pulling back just the barest fraction to speak.

“Took you long enough.” He leans in again, grabbing Steve’s waist and feeling relieved for the first time he came back from the snap.


End file.
